


Memories--Of the Way We Were, of the Way We Are

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Post Bartlett Administration, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-20
Updated: 2009-07-20
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	Memories--Of the Way We Were, of the Way We Are

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Alternative universe, total fantasy (or is it)

 

 

 

Warning - some references to disturbing images

 

 

 

Spoilers through end of series; possible spoilers for \"Holding Hands on the Way Down\"

 

 

 

\"The Way We Were\" by Alan and Marilyn Bergman, Marvin Hamlisch © 1973

 

 

 

\"Everlasting Love\" by Buzz Cason and Mac Gayden © 1967

 

 

 

\"Love the One You’re With\" by Stephen Stills © 1970

 

 

 

As usual, the paragraphs in italics take place in heaven.

 

 

 

The paragraphs in bold italic take place in another alternate universe.

 

 

 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul.

 

 

 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed.  


* * *

**August 2, 2017; the Scottish Highlands**

Sighing, Paul Reeves closed his book. He had been on the same page for the last ten minutes. The rain had almost stopped and the grey sky had lightened from dark to medium, with the promise of turning even paler. The forecast was for clearing by evening, with the prediction of beautiful weather for tomorrow and the wedding of Aisling MacDonald and Brian Stewart.

A bright flash of red flashed across his peripheral vision and he turned to the movement. Aisling was walking out of the woods and toward the manor. A second swath of scarlet on her left shoulder indicated that Ash was carrying Caitlin in her arms.

Paul stood up as Aisling reached the steps that led up to the stone porch, successfully hiding the anxiety inside. Caitlin squirmed in her cousin's arms and spoke into Aisling's ear. When the taller redhead set the littler one on her feet, the almost five year old climbed up to the porch as fast as she could, ran up to Paul, wrapped her arms around his thighs, and hugged them tightly. Paul immediately lifted his daughter and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Papa," she mumbled against his neck.

By the time Paul finished telling the child that he loved her too, she was asleep in his arms.

"Thank you," Paul spoke softly as Aisling reached the porch. "You have enough to deal with for tomorrow; you shouldn't have to deal with these kinds of things as well. I'm so sorry we had to impose on you."

"Bosh!" Aisling laughed. "Caitlin is my goddaughter. I made a promise to Uncle Danny to be there for her, no matter what. And as for the wedding, it's on auto-pilot. And whatever isn't, my mother and the other women, MacDonald and Stewart, will handle."

"I must say that you are the calmest bride I've seen, and over the years, I've seen more than I can count at the moment. You aren't concerned about anything? Your dress? The flowers? The cake? The weather?"

"Brian's here, the priest is here, our friends and family are here. The important thing is that we make our promises to God and each other in front of those we love. The rest of it is just trimming.

"And, Paul, what you and Aunt CJ were concerned about, it's nothing toxic. Caitlin just happens to have an overactive imagination. She heard some of the older boys one-upping each other, seeing who could tell the most gruesome story of dastardly English depravity against brave Scottish warriors and fair Highland damsels. It was kind of like sleep-walking. Of course, I'm newly minted as a psychologist, so if you do decide to have a professional talk with your daughter when you get back to Berkeley, I won't feel offended," Aisling finished with a smile. "Now, I'll leave you with her; I need to go calm down my mother and see if Fiona needs anything." It was the truth, Aisling told herself. The boys **had been** telling scary stories around a campfire the night before last. Caitlin **was** there.

It just wasn't the whole truth.

Paul sat down carefully, not wanting to disturb the still-sleeping Caitlin. It had been a very stressful twenty-four hours.

**August 1, 2017; late afternoon**

"CJ, sweetheart, are you sure you're on board with this? We can talk about it more," Paul told his wife. Actually, he wanted to put the unpleasant duty behind him as soon as possible, but he needed to consider his wife's feelings.

"With giving her one more chance to tell the truth and if she doesn't, spank her without the admission? I know it's what has to be done, although it would be better if she admitted that she lied," CJ answered. "But Paul, I'm more concerned about why she did what she did. Is it symptomatic of serious problems, will she go from a doll to a dog to a person? You hear about these psychotics who started as kids that way," CJ looked up at Paul, fear and worry reflected on her face.

Paul was concerned and worried also, but there wasn't all that much that the two of them could do right now, with the Irish Sea, Ireland, the Atlantic Ocean, and the continental United States between them and their doctors. Any professional analysis would have to wait until they returned home.

But dealing with Caitlin's transgression needed to be done now.

Paul pulled CJ to her feet and kissed her forehead.

"Let's go give her one more chance to not blame this on her imaginary friend."

"Have we even figured out if this `Urksus' is a boy or a girl?"

"Does it matter?" Paul asked with a light laugh.

"It's just a strange name."

An hour ago, little Ciara Collins had come into the manor crying her heart out, holding the pieces of her doll. The toy's head, arms, and legs had been broken off the trunk of the doll. Between sobs, Ciara told her father Brendan that Caitlin had "hurt Barbie".

Paul looked up as Paddy came into the room and silently asked the question. The miserable look on his son's face gave Paul the answer.

"She did it, Papa. It was so fast, I couldn't stop her. Then she ran toward the gazebo."

"We'll get you a new Barbie tomorrow, _a leannan_ ", Brian murmured to his daughter.

"Why don't we go now?" CJ asked. Of course, she and Paul would pay the cost of replacing the doll (and settle with Caitlin's piggybank when the family returned to the States.)

"There's the rehearsal in two hours and then the Stewart's party," Brian reminded her. "There really isn't time."

"Then CJ will take her tomorrow," Paul said. "In the mean time, Brian, we are so sorry. Sweetheart, let's go find our problem child." Paul sighed to himself as they walked toward the garden structure. He had hoped that there would be time before the evening party to find out what had caused CJ to go ballistic earlier in the day. Now that would have to wait until bedtime, and would probably affect the pleasant end to the day that he was anticipating.

Back in their bedroom, Paul and CJ gave Caitlin several chances to tell the truth about the incident. They even told her that Paddy confirmed Ciara's accusation.

But Caitlin refused to change her story, merely restating that someone else had done it. ("This is the first time she's ever said anything about a `special friend'. I wonder how long he, or she, has been in the picture," CJ mused.) So, leaving the little girl, Paul and CJ went into the bathroom to discuss the situation. "Compensatory and punitive damages" would have to wait for a week or so, but Caitlin was old enough to know that lying was not tolerated in the Reeves household and was old enough to pay the price.

"Little girls don't think like little boys."

Paul remembered hearing that statement from Frank Muñoz back in late September of '13. It was after he and CJ had announced their engagement to the block in Santa Monica and everyone was gathered at the Muñoz house to enjoy the early autumn afternoon. The men were on the deck, commiserating with Li Wei, who had found himself in the unenviable position of having to spank little Mei-ling.

"You have to do it, but it changes your relationship forever. You're still the most important man in her life, at least for a few more years," Pete Dieliczko mused, "but it's different. That complete trust is gone. It's always in the back of her mind, that she has to be careful around you, has to follow your rules. Maybe it's a good thing; maybe it's the first step to learning how to deal with men in general."

"I want to call it a loss of innocence, but that's not really the proper way to express it. I'm at a loss for the right words, and for a lawyer to admit that," Ken Robbins laughed.

"It **is** a loss of innocence. It's like Genesis," Joel Feldman offered. "Eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil."

"Original sin? The reason for all our misery?" Frank asked. "How is it like that?"

"We Jews don't interpret it that way," Joel replied. "It's more of humanity becoming cognizant of morality, of ethics."

"In any event," Frank said, "it's a traumatic experience. The boys, you do it, you reinforce verbally what you want them to learn from it and why, and it's over. The girls need time to deal with it, to sort out feelings of hurt, anger, bruised pride. A little girl is a complicated creature-"

"And a grown woman isn't?" Billy Rogers interjected.

After the laughter died down, Frank continued, "Two months ago, we had to ground Carmen for a week and she actually asked to be spanked instead. Apparently one of her classmate's parents gives the child a choice, would you believe? I was flabbergasted. Luckily, Diana told her that **we** made those decisions, not her."

"Jill tried to pull that on me about five years ago," Ken added. "I called her bluff, told her that her punishment would last two weeks. Now, if rather than being grounded for that time, she would prefer two spankings a day for fourteen days – well, her face turned grey and she said grounding would be fine."

Throughout the conversation, Paul had nodded in agreement. It was the same in his experience. Derrick, and then Paddy, had been able to absorb the lesson painfully learned in a matter of minutes and then go on, any injury to their male pride fading as quickly as the discomfort on their butts. Deborah, on the other hand, would glower, when dismissed, go to her room and brood for a while before coming out and shyly letting her father know that just as he had forgiven her, she had forgiven him.

However, Paul had not joined in the conversation as one by one, the other men offered support to Li, often with examples from their own families. For one reason, Paul felt a little less than comfortable with the men, realizing that for so many years, Danny was a vital member of the club, as it were, and he did not want to give the impression of poaching on Danny's legacy. For another, he was not sure he wanted to discuss his own use of physical discipline with these men, that the subject was best kept between the child and himself, and of course, Alicia. However, Paul did recognize that the men were supporting each other, helping each other to deal with the harder aspects of being fathers.

So between his own experience and that of other men, Paul was prepared, after smacking Caitlin's little backside twice, to hear theatrical cries and see theatrical tears, to be given a look designed to instill guilt inside him, to be told that "he was the worst Papa in the whole wide world", that she would never speak to him again, and for her to run off to some place to lick her wounded psyche in private.

However, Caitlin had done none of those things, only calmly asking permission to be excused. But the look in her eyes iced his heart. It was a look of resignation combined with abject terror. It was a look he had seen before in the eyes of women who were victims of domestic abuse, the ones who felt powerless to remedy their situation. As Caitlin left for the room in which she was sleeping, Paul was struck by the sense that he was watching an old woman with years of sorrow in her past and not a little girl who would not be five until three months had passed.

CJ reassured Paul that their daughter was just being moody and he was able to put the situation in the back of his mind when they went to the Stewart party.

When they returned from the event, the babysitters that Erin had arranged for the children told them that Caitlin had not left her room, had not come down for dinner. ("I left her an apple, some crackers, and some water, but she didn't touch them.") Paul checked on the girls while CJ went to the room Paddy was sharing with about five other young boys. Dansha stirred when kissed and sleepily reached up to give a half hug in return. With Caitlin, her eyes opened, a flash of recognition followed, and then she turned her back toward him. Paul stroked the little red curls, his heart twinging as she flinched.

"God keep you safe, Kitty-Cat. Papa loves you."

"You're not my real father."

" _Ah, but lovey, **I** am, and I understand, because Ash explained everything to me before I came here, and They elaborated once I got here. Believe me, had I not died, I would not have understood, and I would have done the same thing. Your Papa loves you as much as I do, and he's taking wonderful care of you. Please don't hurt him by telling him he's not your father, because he is, as much as I am."_

Earlier in the day, Paul had steeled himself against the possibility of hearing that sentence and had been prepared for it. Now, not so much.

CJ had read what happened in his eyes and went into comfort-giver mode. She was the initiator in the evening's love-making, but did so in a way that provided solace rather than a sense of being dominated (or pitied).

**August 2, 2017; present time**

This morning, when Caitlin still wanted to stay in her room, their unease grew into anxiety. In addition to worrying about what was going on in the little girl's mind, Caitlin, along with Dansha, Ciara, and five other little MacDonald and Stewart girls, were to be Ash's bridal party tomorrow. Fiona, of course, would be her sister's matron of honor, but Fiona, who was six months pregnant, was suffering some minor complications; she would be at the altar in a wheelchair rather than proceeding Aisling and Robin down the aisle. CJ was sick with worry that Caitlin would spoil the occasion for the niece who had meant so much to her first husband.

"Let me go talk with her," Aisling had volunteered. Three minutes later, she returned to the dining room, made some toast and bacon sandwiches, and told them what she and Caitlin were going for a walk in the woods.

So CJ went off with Ciara to replace "Chainsaw Barbie", as Derrick had referred to the victim, Paddy went to play soccer ("football", the other boys insisted), and Derrick joined Brendan, Brian, and Brian's cousins and friends on the links. Paul and Dansha kept Fiona company until she wheeled herself away for a nap. After putting his youngest down for her nap, Paul had come outside to read.

So now Paul sat, waiting for his daughter and her godmother, waiting for his wife. He had expected that Paddy might get into a few scrapes, being with a new set of boys, most of whom just happened to be one to three years older, and the eight year-old did go along with most of the escapades. Of course, they were rather benign things – teasing the girls with frogs and garter snakes, "borrowing" one of Brian's cousin's Playboy and ogling the pictures, that sort of thing. And when confronted, not once did Paddy lie about what he did. The only somewhat serious things, things that Paul felt needed to be "discussed" at length, were the smoking incident, the whiskey experiment, the "birds and bees" information that Brian's twelve year old nephew decided to share with the other boys, and the "jerk off" and "pissing" contests. The only issue on which some of the parents differed was the skinny-dipping, which Paul and CJ laughed off, but two of the couples felt was "the first step on the road to homosexuality". There would (so far) be no punitive damages and only one compensatory penalty – the replacement of a rather expensive Waterford whiskey decanter that was broken, plus value of contents – to be assessed on Paddy's piggybank when they returned to Kensington.

The sound of a car backfiring startled Paul and he looked up to see CJ and Ciara getting out of a lime green Morris Minor.

"Thanks for the ride, Shona. I don't think I could have managed on the wrong side of the road."

"Sure, `tis the right side ye mean, Mrs. Reeves," came the laughing reply from the driver. "I was glad ta do it. Enjoy yer dollie, Ciara."

The little girl ran up the stairs to the terrace, eager to show Paul her replacement Barbie. However, Ciara pulled back and clutched the toy to her chest when she saw Caitlin in Paul's arms. "Stay away!" Ciara cried as Caitlin stirred.

"Ciara, I'm sorry I hurt your Barbie. It was very bad of me and I'll never do it again." Caitlin crawled off Paul's lap and stood before the other little girl.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"Okay. Let's go get biscuits, I mean cookies." The American kids had different words for some things.

"Everything's okay between you and Caitlin?" CJ asked as she sat down next to Paul.

"Thanks to Ash."

"I'm glad that all the hassles are settled," CJ replied as she leaned against her husband's shoulder, "and we can go on in relative peace."

"Sweetheart," Paul said as he absent-mindedly played with a strand of CJ's hair, "could we talk about yesterday? In the car?"

Yesterday morning, the Reeves family had arisen early and driven over to Loch Ness. Derrick had apparently made the adjustment to driving on the left side of the road with no problem. ("It's because I'm young and have more of my brain cells, Dad.") On the way back to the manor, when Paul commented that Derrick had missed a turn, the young lawyer told them that he had a surprise for the group.

"Brian told me about this place, told me I had to bring all of you to see it."

Fifteen minutes later, he parked the car at the shore of a little lake in the middle of a wooded glen.

"There's an island!" Paddy exclaimed, "and a castle! And a boat! Can we go over and see it?"

"Of course," Derrick replied, "it belongs to Brian's mother's second cousin, but it's MacDonald prop-".

"No!" CJ cried out. "We can't!"

"Of course we can, CJ. Brian cleared it. Doesn't the idea fascinate you? And look at the girls' faces; it's their fairy-tale dream come true."

"We need to get back, I need to get back, Derrick," CJ answered, her voice more urgent than before. "I have to help Erin with the centerpieces. You all can come back, after lunch."

"Sweetheart," Paul chimed in, "it seems a shame to have to double back, what with the price of gas-".

"God dammit,Paul!" CJ yelled. "Am I so fucking hard to understand?"

There wasn't a sound in the car as Derrick shifted into gear; there wasn't a sound in the car as the family drove back to the manor.

Once there, CJ got pulled into the centerpiece-making bee. Derrick talked to the cook, who gave him some sandwiches and fruit, and the rest of them returned to the little lake with its little island in the center.

It was indeed an enchanting place. The house was not a castle, of course, but it did have a turret, a balcony, and other stone features that made it seem so to two little girls.

Derrick found the key where Brian said it would be and the five of them explored the exquisite little dwelling, which combined medieval features such as leaded glass windows, window seats, a small library, and tapestry hangings, with modern conveniences – a hot tub, heated swimming pool, modern bathrooms and kitchen. Before going back to shore, Derrick and Paul rowed around the island and the children delighted at the deer and rabbits that came to the edge of the island to see the visitors.

When they returned to the manor, CJ and Erin were still involved in preparing for the reception. Paddy went off to play with the other boys and Derrick walked down to the pub to join the other young adults. Leaving Caitlin with Fiona and Ciara, Paul took a sleepy Dansha upstairs for a nap.

Then, relative hell broke loose.

Between the Barbie incident and its aftereffects and the Stewart party after the wedding rehearsal, there had been no time to bring up the incident in the car. And after the party, Paul had been too upset to consider finding out why CJ had reacted so vehemently to an excursion to the island.

But now, the other issues had been resolved.

"CJ?" Paul asked again, as she just turned to face him and looked at him with a look of disbelief. Then it dawned on her; he had forgotten.

"Danny and I. Our honeymoon."

Recognition first, then regret.

"Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry. It totally slipped my mind. I must be growing old. Please forgive me."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"The thing is, I had thought about asking Erin or Robin to take me over there, by myself. If you don't mind. I think I was just unprepared yesterday; I had no idea what Derrick had planned. I need to apologize to him, explain."

"Why don't you let me tell him?", Paul kissed her temple. "Of course I don't mind. I understand." And of course he did; he understood the same way that she understood that the two of them would never vacation on Bermuda.

"You're having a good time, Paul? All things considered? Being with Danny's family, and his adopted family, is okay with you?"

"I'm having a wonderful time. This place is very restful, sweetheart, and the various and sundry MacDonald's and Stewart's have been wonderfully gracious hosts. Except for having to be Caitlin's father instead of her papa, and my concern about you yesterday, it's been perfect."

"It's a shame we can't spend more time, now that we're over here. There's so much to see – Edinburgh, London, Dublin, over to Paris or Deauville," CJ sighed.

"Unfortunately, the kids would need to be about ten years older to make it work. We've been lucky to have Derrick with us, giving us one adult per child. He really needs to start spending less time with us. I know Paddy adores him, but Derrick has his own life to live."

"It's good that there are so many other boys Paddy's age gathered for the wedding. Your son fits into Brian's group so easily; I'm glad he's able to spend time with them."

"I'm not sure if all the guys are happy. Quite a few of the young women have gone out of their way to make my son feel welcome," Paul laughed.

"You think Derrick is, ah, sampling, more than the local fermented beverages?"

"Is that what they're calling it these days? Not a chance. There's only one woman for my son, and she's in San Luis Obispo. But he can't help being unfailingly attentive and considerate of any young woman."

"Takes after his father," CJ said, pulling back to smile at her man. "Hopefully, tonight should be quiet, at least for us. Brian and the guys in one pub for his stag party, Ash and her friends at another for the hen party."

"And us old fogeys?"

"Over at Angus' place."

**Later that evening; home of Angus MacDonald**

"Nae. It doesn't get any easier. Giving away a lass is hard whether she's yer first daughter or yer fifth."

CJ smiled as she heard old Angus MacDonald pontificating. The man must be over ninety by now. He had turned over the day-to-day financial operations of the family distillery to one of his grandsons, a graduate of the Wharton School, and the production and blending of the actual product to Aisling, but Angus still lived in the old house where Brianna MacDonald Ogilvie (later Stewart) had taught Danny everything a young man needed to know about pleasuring and pleasing a woman.

"Excuse me," CJ made her presence known before entering the old library, then walked up to Paul.

"Erin's heading back and I'm a little tired and I've got just the bit of a headache, so I'm going with her."

Paul moved as if to get up.

"I'll take you home, sweetheart."

"No, it's fine. You stay and enjoy yourself."

"You're just tired? It's not one of your killer headaches?" Paul asked.

"Just tired and a little achy. Probably the caffeinated coffee and subsequent withdrawal. It's been an exhausting day," CJ replied. Then she bent down to speak softly into Paul's ear. "But when you do get back, if you want, be sure to wake me." After almost four years of marriage (and two years together back in the early `80's), CJ knew that her husband would want to make love with her, a) because of his natural libido level and b) because his male psyche needed to reassert itself after her taking the lead the previous night.

"We'll see," Paul smiled. "And if you're sure you don't want me to take you -".

CJ was sure. It was obvious that he was enjoying the companionship of the group in Angus' library. The lamps gave a gentle glow to the room whose walls consisted of old oak bookcases. The furniture and the rugs were worn but comfortable. The windows were thrown open to the warm high summer night. The nine men, ranging in age from late 40's to Angus' nonage, were sipping a very special, very old product of the distillery. Angus and two of the other older men were smoking pipes, and the smell of their tobacco teased pleasantly at CJ's nostrils, so unlike the putrid odor of cigarettes. It was male bonding and companionship at its best, and the men in the room were enjoying their comforts and conversation as much as, if not more, than the groom and the younger men at the pub down the lane were enjoying their pints, their whiskey, and their other amusements.

Once she reached the manor, CJ checked on her daughters, (both sleeping peacefully), adjusting the covers over the two little girls. CJ peeked into the room where Paddy and the other boys were bedding down, resisting the urge to go over to the air mattress which held her son. God forbid one of the other lads should wake up to see Paddy's mom treating him like a baby!

She popped a couple of Tylenol, changed into a nightgown, and crawled into bed. After tossing for about ten minutes, she got up, switched the nightgown for one of Paul's used T-shirts, and, with the familiar scent of her husband about her, quickly fell asleep.

**August 3; 6:30 AM**

CJ made her way downstairs, drawn to the smell of coffee and bacon coming from the kitchen. When she woke up twenty minutes ago, she realized that when Paul had returned, he had merely gathered her into his arms and had chosen not to arouse her (in both senses of the word), although the pleasant firmness nestled against her stomach indicated that he had probably wanted to do so.

Wide awake, she carefully extracted herself from Paul's embrace, quietly gathered clothing, and used the bathroom.

When CJ reached the kitchen, she was surprised to see Derrick at the table. Either the stag party broke up relatively early, Derrick had left the pub relatively early, or Derrick had unusual stamina and/or recovery powers.

"Hey, CJ. The cook is waiting for a few more folks to wake up before setting up in the dining room. Let me get you some coffee."

"I'll get it. Would you like a refill?" CJ reached for Derrick's mug.

CJ knew that Paul had said he would talk with Derrick about the incident at the island, but CJ felt the need to explain and apologize.

"About the day before yesterday; I'm so sorry I -".

"There's no need, CJ. I completely understand. The place is special to you and going back there would be much too painful," Derrick said to his stepmother.

"Actually, I want to go back, but I need to be by myself," CJ said. "The memories are too happy to share with anyone else. I'm hoping that Erin or Robin might be able to drive me over this morning, drop me off, if there isn't too much hoopla left before the ceremony." The wedding was scheduled for 5:30.

"I'll take you. In fact, if you want, we can go now."

"Derrick, I don't want to bother you with - ".

"Nonsense." (And CJ was struck by how much he said that word, have laughing and half scolding, exactly the way his father did). "It's absolutely no bother at all. The other guys aren't going to be up for several hours. And who's going to row you over? I'll take my book; I can read at the dock as well as here. You go write Dad a note; he and Robin got back about the same time we did, so I'm sure he'll be out for a couple of hours, too. I'll get a thermos from the cook and maybe make some bacon sandwiches. Scoot."

Thirty-five minutes later, CJ climbed the set of steps from the boat dock on the island and meandered through the tidy little gardens surrounding the little house. She leaned against the wide old maple, her hand resting on the low branch that ten years ago had been just the right height for her to brace against while Danny raised her skirt and lowered his jeans. She idly threw a few pebbles in the little pool that, unfortunately, was just about three inches too shallow for amorous activity. She picked a few daisies from the patch where she had woven little flowered hoops and draped them on her new husband's convenient little _("Hey, what do you mean, little?")_ post.

CJ walked into the wooded area beyond the gardens. She stopped and sat on a log in one spot she remembered quite well. She and Danny had been walking in the woods when a little bit of precipitation began to fall – heavier than a mist, lighter than a drizzle. There was a grassy circle, surrounded by trees. The branches formed a canopy that the light droplets couldn't penetrate. Danny looked at CJ, smiled at CJ, and undressed first himself and then her. He pulled her down to the grass, lying on his back and pulling her over his groin. Afterward, when she lay with her head on his chest, he gently rolled her onto her back and just stared into her eyes. When offered a penny for his thoughts, Danny just continued to smile, reached down, and smoothed the hair from her face.

" _I was afraid to tell you, afraid to jinx it, my darling. I was thinking that if you weren't already pregnant, I was hoping that you would conceive our first child in that magical moment."_

CJ walked back to the garden, around to the other side, to the pool and the Jacuzzi. They, too, held special memories of their first days as husband and wife, so thankful that fate, or God, had brought them together after eight years of dancing close and pulling away.

" _It's a good thing that sperm is so fragile. If it weren't, if it could survive chlorinated, heated water, when Fiona and her classmates came over to use the house the week after we left for Dubai, well, there'd be a lot more little red-headed nine year-olds in counties Clare and Galway today."_

CJ found the key and went inside the house. She climbed the steps to the second story and found the room where she and Danny spent their nights in the comfy old feather bed, the bed where she was called "Mrs. Concannon" more times in those ten days then she was during the next ten months.

" _I know I said it didn't matter, but, Jeannie, when you said you would take my name, my heart swelled one hundred times."_

"Ah, Danny, Danny, Danny," CJ sighed. "I don't know how the psychiatrists would rate the degree to which I am sane, but somehow I manage to be two people inside this middle-aged body. I miss you so much and yet I am so happy with Paul. I love you, Danny, I will always love you. I see your face every day in Caitlin and hear your voice every day in Paddy. We were so happy. Knowing what I now know, I wish I had left the White House during that second year. All of it, Chief of Staff, `Road to a Better World', the Nobel, I'd give it all up in a heartbeat if I could have had the chance for seven more years with you."

" _CJ, be grateful for what we did have. Watch over our children for me. Caitlin is special, she'll need help until she understands. And Paddy; make sure my son grows to be a good man. You have wonderful help in Paul and Derrick for that. And sweet, precious Dansha; she'll bring nothing but joy to you and Paul. And about having two people inside you – I understand completely because I have the same feeling up here. I love our kids here as much as our two still with you. I love Alicia. You know, that's the first time I've said it aloud, but it's true. And I love Leslie and Theo. Now, it's time for you to go back, to celebrate my niece's wedding. Kiss her for me. Now let me kiss you."_

It was as if a faint breeze came through the room, although all the windows and the doors were shut. It rustled across her mouth.

It was time to get back. Paul and the children were surely up by now. She left the little house, locked up, and walked back to the boat dock, still carrying the daisies she had picked from the garden.

Derrick was sitting on the dock, leaning up against the railing. He looked up at the sound of her approach, closed his book, and got into the boat before helping her into the craft. They were silent as he rowed to back across the lake. CJ brushed at the tears that escaped her eyes.

They reached the other shore. Derrick tied the boat to the pier and started to stand when CJ stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Derrick, I love your father. Whatever this," she pointed over to the island, then to the tear stains on her cheeks, "may indicate to the contrary, he has made me so unbelievably happy these past four years."

"You don't think I know that, CJ? You don't think I see how happy **you** have made **him**? Not that he was sad, at least not after he came back from Indonesia, but now, he's the man I remember from before Mom got sick. Caitlin and Paddy, not to mention that enchanting creature the two of you created, are good for him. But you, CJ, you've revived his soul. If I know my father, he thanks God every morning and every night for bringing you back into his life."

"I know. And I offer the same thanks. There are even times when I wish I could go back to that second year at Berkeley, to tell him that I would apply to Yale for grad school, that I would follow him wherever. We could have had so many happy years together."

_When CJ left the house, Danny returned to Rainbow Bridge, where Alicia was passing out sandwiches, fruit, and sodas to the children and to Pistol. Danny reached down and brushed his lips across Alicia's forehead as she looked up and put her palm against the side of his face. He did not hear CJ make a statement about redoing the past with Paul not a quarter hour after making a similar statement with regard to him. Had he heard it, he would have understood._

"But then, where would Paddy and Caitlin be, where would Deborah be, and, because it's all about me -". Laughing, Derrick left the sentence unfinished. He climbed out of the rowboat and then helped CJ to the pier.

By the time CJ and Derrick returned to the manor, Paul and the kids were up and eating breakfast.

"You're okay?" Paul asked CJ as she sat down beside him.

"Yeah," she replied with a smile and a quick squeeze on his hand. Then, leaning close to him, "You didn't wake me last night?"

"You were sleeping so peacefully, sweetheart," Paul whispered back. "And, much as I'd rather not, I am capable of doing without for one night."

"Are you trying to tell me I'm not irresistible? I'm afraid the slight bruise on my stomach begs to differ."

My god, CJ thought to herself, I actually made him blush. She looked up hastily, to see if anyone else was paying attention to them, and caught Derrick quickly looking away.

"Hey, kids, why don't we go over to Angus' house and look at the puppies?" Derrick asked.

Dansha and Caitlin clapped their hands while Paddy explained that he would like to go to Angus', but he would be with the other boys playing "Highlanders and Englishmen".

"What about Mama and Papa?" Caitlin asked.

"Oh, I think they have something to do here."

**5:35 PM; home of The MacDonald**

It hit Paul so hard because he wasn't expecting it.

This wedding was nothing like his and Alicia's. Where Alicia had been dressed in icy, virginal white satin and lace, with a full train, the light airy cotton of Aisling's dress was the warm color of the marvelous butter that the cook made fresh each morning from cream that had settled out of milk that had been taken from the cows two days earlier. (The kids were fascinated as the woman explained "Ye just put the cream in the blender and let it whirl away and then add ice water. Of course, me mother used a hand churn, but this is so much easier, and faster.") While Alicia had carried a huge cascade of calla lilies, Aisling carried a nosegay of field flowers, including some daisies that CJ gave her this morning. Alicia's upswept hair and face had been covered in netting trimmed with lace that matched that of the dress, the veiling extending to her hips. Aisling's red tresses fell in uncovered profusion about her face and to her shoulders, crowned by a wreath of the same field flowers that were in her hands.

This wedding was nothing like his and Alicia's. Paul, his brother, and his groomsmen and ushers wore identical inky black tuxedos with identical shirts, studs, cufflinks, ties, shoes, and socks. (Bernice would not let Alex wear his military formal dress. Paul wouldn't have put it past Alicia's mother to make sure that even their boxer shorts matched.) Brian and his mates were in formal jackets and shirts, to be sure, but the sett of their kilts differed according to the clans to which the men belonged. Over half of them were either Stewart or MacDonald, of course, but there were also a few others. Paul knew that some of the young men were surnamed Fraser, that there was a MacKenzie, and also an Ogilvie.

This wedding was nothing like his and Alicia's. Alicia had been attended by her sister and six other young women, again dressed identically in medium rose satin and lace, dyed to match satin heels, flowered headpieces on identical upswept coiffures, pearl clip-on earrings (because two girls didn't have pierced ears), and pantyhose. For the women, Bernice did insist on identical (except for size) brassieres and slips. The eight little girls who preceded Aisling and Robin down the aisle wore white pinafores of varying styles and white sandals, also bought by each child's mother with no dictates from Aisling or Erin. And Bernice would be aghast at the sight of Fiona MacDonald Collins, so big with child that she was as wide as she was tall, sitting in a wheelchair, waiting at the altar in a dress that could truthfully be called a tent.

This wedding was nothing like his and Alicia's. He and Alicia had taken their vows in a very ornate, high Episcopalian church in Princeton. One of Erin's Concannon second cousins, a monsignor who was a personal assistant to the Cardinal Archbishop of Dublin, had pulled strings and the Nuptial Mass was being celebrated outdoors on the grounds of the head of the MacDonald clan.

But in the most important respect, this wedding was everything like his and Alicia's, was everything like his and CJ's, and, Paul was sure, was everything like CJ's and Danny's. The joy in Brian's eyes as Robin escorted his younger daughter to the altar. The glow on Aisling's face, focused squarely on the man waiting for her. The tremble in their voices as they spoke their vows.

"Oh, God, Lissy, it's been eleven years and it still hurts. I love this woman sitting next to me, holding my wrist with one hand and wiping away tears with the other, I love her children and the little girl we made together and named for you and Danny, but I miss you so much. You were so beautiful that day, inside and out, partly because of, and partly in spite of, your mother's ideas and dominant personality. Waiting for you at the altar, before the ceremony, I was so proud of you, so happy, so wanting to prove myself worthy of you, and just a little bit anxious about making the coming evening wonderful for you. And then you appeared with Joe, a vision in lace and satin and net, and I knew everything would be okay. I was so glad that I had respected your wish to keep your promise to your grandmother. And now, our twins are grown, Deborah wedded to a good man and a grandchild on the way, Derrick well on the way to marrying Natasha, even though she doesn't yet know it, and most important, both of them wonderful legacies of their mother. Where did the time go, my darling?"

" _Even up here, I don't have the answer for that, Pauley, I miss you, too. Don't be sad." Alicia brushed her lips across Paul's mouth and then turned to Danny and smiled. "Your niece is a radiant bride."_

_Bernice turned to her mother-in-law. "It's a nice wedding, in its own way. And Erin does look more relaxed than I remember being for Gwenn's wedding and for Alicia's. But what were they thinking with Fiona? I know she's Aisling's sister, but still? A pregnant bridesmaid?"_

_Esther Dawson gave her daughter-in-law a pointed look. "Better the bridesmaid than the bride."_

" _Even after all these years, she won't let me forget," Bernice fumed to herself. She didn't see Esther flinch as her husband swatted her backside_.

" _Give it a rest, woman."_

Suddenly, it was time for Communion and Paul stood up, let his wife precede him down the aisle, and approached the priest with arms folded across his chest. Returning to their seats, the congregation listened to an exquisite _a capella_ rendering of "Panis Angelicus". Then, after Aisling put her flowers at the feet of a statue of the Blessed Virgin, Brian draped a sash made of the Stewart plaid across her left shoulder and under her right arm, and the group was told that the Mass was over and that they should go in peace to serve God and each other. It was time for the recessional.

"Open up your eyes  
Then you'll realize  
Here I stand with my  
Everlasting Love"

"Wow!" CJ exclaimed in a whisper to Paul, "Erin was right; over here the church is much less uptight about things. A lot of parishes wouldn't let you play that at a church wedding."

"Well, I'm sure that Durmiad being involved helped."

_Brianna rested her head on Hugh's shoulder. "Our baby is married," she mused. Hugh Stewart put his arm around his wife and kissed her. "And to a wonderful young woman."_

_Jeremiah Ogilvie stood off to one side. Usually, through ways known only to Them, he was not privy to intimate moments between his wife and her second husband. Apparently, today would be different. He would have to hide his sorrow that he and Brianna never had children of their own. Hearing a sniffle, Jem looked up to see Abbey Bartlet standing by herself. She was usually with Helen Santos. But Helen was standing with Simon Donovan, whispering to the Secret Service agent._

_What was that old CSNY song?_

" _If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with."_

_Abigail Bartlet was an attractive woman. He had best make his move before Percy Fitzwallace made his._

_Smiling, Jem walked over to Abbey._

" _May I escort you over to Ganymede, to the reception that Padraic and Caitlin are having for their granddaughter?"_

_Danny looked around. About half the crowd, including the kids and Pistol, had already left for the party. It would be a big group, just about everyone except Leo McGarry and Delores Landingham, who had been assigned the task of keeping Wigifortis (the patron saint of unhappily married women) away from the festivities._

" _We should get going," Danny told Alicia._

_Alicia pulled back on Danny's hand._

" _Do you think we have to get to the reception right away?" she asked the redhead._

" _Oh, I think we can be a bit late," Danny smiled in return and turned toward Cassiopeia's Chair._

**August 6, 2017; somewhere over Kansas**

CJ turned to the window seat and smiled. Dansha was coloring in the book that the flight attendant had given to the tot and to Caitlin when they pre-boarded the plane. (Paddy insisted that he and Derrick wait to board "with the big people; I'm not a small child".) The trip had been a success on many levels. She had revisited the place where she and Danny had recreated, as best they could, the Whitsunday Island experience of Maggie Cleary and Ralph de Bricassart "but with room service and housekeeping" without making Paul feel out of place or uncomfortable. She had seen Danny's niece, whom she had first met as a pre-teen and who had provided her and Danny with on-the-job parenting training, grow into a wonderful young woman who married the son of Danny's first love. She had reinforced her memories and added new ones, equally good, to them. And she had deepened her already strong relationship with Derrick.

Paddy looked down at the clouds, thinking that they looked different from on top than they did from below. Being in Scotland was fun. Being with the other boys was fun. He hoped that Derrick didn't mind too much that Paddy spent a lot of time with them. He was glad that he had a good time. He was glad that he knew where to draw the line in going along with the other boys. He had been a little apprehensive about trying the whiskey but went along with the guys; however, he knew that taking money from his father's wallet would be "over the top". He felt sorry for Caitlin, that she didn't listen when he told her what Derrick had told him three years ago – "Never, never, tell them a lie." Hopefully, there was enough in his piggybank to cover the pretty bottle that he broke. He hoped he remembered, the next time he talked to Maggie, to find out if she knew about the things he had learned about, all the things they would want to do with each other when they were grown up and able to get married. When he had asked Papa if he really had to do all that stuff, because some it of sounded really yucky, Papa told him that he wouldn't have to do anything that bothered him; Papa also told him that what might sound yucky now might seem yummy when he was older. He was growing up, Papa told him, but he had quite a way to go, and just because he knew about things like cigarettes, whiskey, making a girl feel good, and letting her make you feel good, it didn't mean that he should act on that knowledge.

Paul stroked the russet curls of the little girl's head as it lay on his thigh. Caitlin slumbered away, her dreams hopefully happy ones. Thanks to Aisling MacDonald Stewart, he and his middle daughter had weathered the uncomfortable but necessary milestone in their relationship. He had promised Danny Concannon to be the best father possible to Danny's children and he was, in his honest opinion, doing a credible job at that task. Caitlin shifted slightly and stretched her legs. When planning the trip, CJ had wanted to book seats in Business class, so they would have more room. ("I know Danny would want us to be comfortable on this trip.") Paul accepted the idea of splurging, but wondered how the other Business class passengers would feel about children, who might be fractious, disturbing the luxury for which **they** had splurged. So they compromised on buying nine seats, three rows, in coach. He, CJ, and the girls had the bulkhead rows, with Derrick and Paddy in the row behind CJ and Dansha. All in all, it was a good trip. He enjoyed Danny's extended, adopted family. He managed to be loving and unthreatened by CJ's memories of her honeymoon with the father of four of her five children, and glad that the two of them had built some memories of their own. He wasn't sure when they would return to Scotland, but he knew that when they did, there would be only happy memories and happy ghosts.

Dansha colored the final little flower and then carefully put her crayons in the box. Looking to her Mama, she saw closed eyes, so Dansha crossed her little legs. She would hold out as long as she could before waking Mama and asking to use the bathroom. Everyone in Scotland told Dansha that she was extraordinarily well-behaved for someone not yet three, whatever that meant. Dansha just knew that it was important to put other people first, and that if you put other people first, things usually worked out for the best for you. No one had ever told her that; it was just something she knew. It was fun being a flower girl at a wedding and she hoped she had another chance to do it again. It wasn't fun watching Papa and Caitlin hurt so much until Aisling fixed things. She had to remember what Paddy and Derrick said about never lying to Mama and Papa. She had to remember, however little sense it made, that if Papa ever had to spank her, it would hurt him more than it would hurt her. Dansha never wanted to hurt Papa; she told herself she would never do anything to make Papa have to spank her.

Derrick extended his legs under the seat in front of him and stretched. CJ had offered Paddy and him the other bulkhead row, but he demurred, knowing that it would be easier to maneuver a child in the extra space. The trip had been enjoyable. There were plenty of other seven to ten year olds to provide companionship for Paddy, and plenty of adults to supervise the children, so he had been free to spend time with Aisling's and Brian's friends. At first, the guys were a little apprehensive of "Aisling's kissing cousin", but once he explained that "there was a special lady back in California" and once the guys saw that although Derrick was unfailingly polite and considerate of the lasses, he did not poach on any of them, taken or not, everything was fine. The Derrick Reeves of two years ago would have behaved differently, would have responded to positive signals from the young women, would have made trips to the chemist for condoms. To be sure, he would have determined, through observation and asking, which of the young women were "involved" before responding. To be sure, he would have done his best to figure out which of the others were emotionally unable to distinguish between having a good time, intimately and non-intimately, from "finding true love". To be sure, he would have avoided the ones who wanted to add "doing it with a black guy" to their list of sexual achievements, while not necessarily avoiding those who were attracted to him as a person but also were having an understandable curiosity. (And to be honest with himself, he would have also wondered if Celtic women were different from American ones.) But now, Derrick was looking forward to getting back to San Luis Obispo to Natasha, and to bringing her back to Kensington in a week for another wedding, one of the guys he shared the house with in Seattle. He was looking forward to that day when he and Natasha would make wedding memories of their own.

Caitlin kept her eyes closed as Papa's hand stroked her head. Once the plane stopped climbing and the nice ladies said it was okay, Papa had lifted the arms between the seats and she curled up against him. When she started getting sleepy, Papa told her to put her head on his leg and to have pleasant dreams, which she did. Now she was awake, but she needed to think by herself. She hoped that keeping her eyes shut wasn't telling a lie. She didn't want to make Papa mad at her again. Things were different now. Aisling had explained it and Caitlin was pretty sure she understood. Papa loved her still, loved her more than anything. Caitlin could, should, trust Papa with her life and beyond. But there were boundaries with any man, even between her and Papa, "even between Brian and me"; Caitlin had to keep that in the back of her mind, wherever that was.

Then Aisling had taken her to see Aunt Sorcha. Aunt Sorcha was real old, maybe even older than Grandpa Joe. Aunt Sorcha told her that the bad memories were only that, that they couldn't hurt her ever again. "Keep remembering that, Caitlin. But if they come again, and are too much, I'm giving you this special little charm. Let's put it on your chain with your cross. It's special, it's magic, but it's special only between you and Aisling and me. If the bad memories become too bad, just hold it and we'll make everything better."

**_Damsis looked into Regni's eyes and tried to smile. Soon they would be together again where no one could keep them apart, where no one could hurt them. In a minute, her pain would start, but hers would be over quickly. His pain, with his intestines spilling out of his split stomach, would last much longer._ **

**_  
_ ** **_Then she heard the snort of the five horses as the whip cracked and the ropes tightened._ **

Perhaps because she thought about them, the bad memories started to come back, so Caitlin clutched at the little charm engraved with runes.

**Aix-en-Provence, France**

Sorcha MacDonald Lovat looked down at her great-great niece's hair glowing in the sunset light coming through the open doors to the balcony. It was spread out across the dark mat of hair on Brian's chest, the hair that matched that on the pillow and on the day's growth of beard on his face, and that surrounding his flaccid genitalia. Should he wake, he would see his bride in satisfied post-coital slumber at his side, feel happy and just a little smug before falling back to sleep himself.

Sorcha knew that the ability to hear the amulet was more powerful in herself and that what she had heard, Aisling had not yet detected. She decided to keep it from reaching Aisling. The lass was on her honeymoon, after all. And, for now at least, the ultimate power resided in Sorcha.

So Sorcha closed her eyes, whispered words older than time. She felt herself moving through space.


End file.
